


[never to be finished] Fic in Which I Just Want to Give Dave a Bunch of Hugs

by ryanismyname



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Cutting, Gen, Self-Harm, poor dave bby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 13:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryanismyname/pseuds/ryanismyname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TW: self-harm, cutting, over all really depressing<br/>its not finished nor will it ever be finished sorry. Its still pretty good though. <br/>In which Dave is a depressed little baby and I need to give him hugs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[never to be finished] Fic in Which I Just Want to Give Dave a Bunch of Hugs

It started off small. A pinch to snap back into reality. A stab from a mechanical pencil to distract from the real pain. A little slice from a razor to drown it all out. And little slices turn bigger and bigger and deeper and deeper. It becomes a problem. A sort of morbid addiction. A little something to calm you down when you get home from school. Eventually you start bringing your blade to school. You need it. You've grown to depend on it. Always there to comfort you with that old familiar sting.

No one knows. You don't think so at least. You hope not. You already wear sleeves pretty often despite the Texas heat so no one really noticed anything.You try to keep it secret. You don't know what would happen if people found out, but you don't think it would be good.

You've considered telling Rose about it. She is your 'therapist' after all. You're not quite sure how you'd go about it though. 'hey rose sometimes i get sad and slit my wrists now tell me how im homosexual some more'. It would be weird and lame. Maybe if she figures out this whole depression thing. Maybe.

Its really lame, this thing. Its not cool or even ironic in any sense. Its fucking stupid, but you can't give it up. You've tried. Oh my god, how you try. You know this isn't an okay thing that normal people do. Only lame-ass emo kids and suicidal people cut themselves. You guess you are a bit suicidal though. You couldn't do it though. You can't remember how many times you've stood on the edge of the roof. Waiting. Wondering what would happen if you took the plunge. How many times you've hesitated to strike the deadly blow; to go down the stream, rather than across the river as usual. You don't think you could do it. You're kind of a wimp. Just another thing to add to your list of failures.

You really do hate yourself, don't you. Why else would you do this if you didn't. You're so fucking stupid. You wonder why you're not dead already. 

Everything was fine and dandy (not really though) until that one day at school. It was really fucking hot out which isn't really unusual, but it just so happens that today the air-conditioner at your school was broken and in the process of getting fixed. You could hardly breathe it was so hot and humid in your classroom. Everyone else in class was stripped down to light short-sleeved t-shirts and shorts. And there you were in your usual long-sleeved shirt and jeans. You don't wear shorts. It just looks weird to you. But today you made a mistake. You rolled up your sleeves to relieve yourself a bit from the heat.

She noticed. You even noticed her noticing. You saw her when she saw your scars. You even made eye-contact as you shuffled down your sleeves, realizing what had happened. You run off as soon as the bell rings. You race into the nearest bathroom and lock yourself in a stall. You quietly start to cry. You can't deal with this. No no no no no. What if she tells somebody? What if she tells Bro? What if this means you have to go on anti-depressants and start meeting with a real therapist or whatever? No no no no no. This is bad. You take out your razor from your bag. You need to calm down. You drag the blade across your already marred skin a few times. You savor the sting. It brings you down to earth. You watch the little pearls of red blood pop up through your skin. But its not enough. You grab a bit of toilet paper and wipe off the blood. You pick up your blade and try again. Just a little deeper, just a little more. You keep making line after line. Its pretty calming to be honest. You finally stop and clean up your arm with some toilet paper. Your breath is heavy and you close you eyes.

Next thing you know you're waking up. Shit. You must have passed out or something. That happens sometimes. Probably from the combination of blood loss and mental stress or whatever. You pull out your phone and check the time. Almost time to go home for the day. Thank god. You decide to just wait in the bathroom until its time to leave. You're breathing more regularly now. You're feeling a little better. You take out your phone and play some games to pass the time. *bing* Ah a message from pesterchum. You're pretty much always logged in on your phone so occasionally you talk to your friends during school. Its not hurting anyone so why not.

You check to see who it is. Rose. Of course. You briefly wonder what time it is for her, but then you dismiss that thought because that's kind of irrelevant. She does online school. Lucky.   
-TentacleTherapist(TT) has begun pestering TurntechGodhead(TG)-  
TT: Hello, Dave.  
TG: oh hey rose  
TG: whats up  
TT: Nothing much. Just wondering what my friends are up to.  
TG: well not much either  
TG: just doing to school and all that shit  
TG: lame ass school  
TT: And why do you hate school so much? Surely an education is important?  
TG: idk  
TG: its just stupid  
TG: the people the teachers the pressure to be smart and all that  
TG: its stupid and i hate it  
TG: i cant wait to finally be done with it  
TT: May I be frank with you, Dave?  
TG: sure whatever  
TT: I suspect you have depression problems. Am I correct?  
TG: ...maybe  
TT: Well?  
TT: I am here to help. I can only help if you are honest with me.  
TG: fine okay  
TG: i have problems  
TG: i might think about offing myself a bit too often  
TG: sometimes i have trouble even getting out of bed in the morning just to have another shitty day  
TG: i get it  
TG: ill be okay though  
TG: i dont need any help  
TT: Yes you do. If it is how I think you may need more help than just me.  
TT: And, you know, just telling someone how you feel can work wonders.  
TG: i dont want to tell anyone  
TG: theyll just think im just another emo little bitch  
TG: just another way to tear me down  
TT: The whole world isn't against you, you know.  
TT: Most people just want to help.  
TT: But they can't help you if they don't know you need it.  
TG: ...  
TT: Seriously. Even just telling Bro or something can help.  
TG: oh hell no  
TG: i am not telling bro  
TG: that is a thing that i will not do  
TT: Why not?  
TG: because  
TG: hes my bro  
TG: gotta keep him proud  
TG: cant be a pussy or nothing  
TG: gotta stay strong  
TG: its the strider way  
TG: sorry gtg schools out  
TT: Well, keep what I said in mind.  
TG: k  
-TentacleTherapist(TT) has ceased pestering TurntechGodhead(TG)-

The bell rang so you just leave. You gather your shit and walk out of that bathroom like the Strider you are. Oh shit. There she is. Ms. Gerald. The teacher that noticed. She's in your path between the bathroom and the doors to leave school. And she sees you too. No backing out. You continue walking towards the doors. You try to make it through without having to talk to her.  
"Hey, Dave!"  
Shit.

You walk over to her. You almost have no choice but to.   
"Hey come inside for a minute. I just want to have a little talk."  
You follow her into the classroom. She has such a kind smile on her face. You don't deserve the sympathy.  
"Have a seat."  
You sit down at one of the desks near Ms. Gerald's desk. You slump. You don't look at her. You can feel her looking at you though.  
"Dave. Are you okay?"  
The compassion in her voice makes you uncomfortable.   
"Sure."  
"Are you sure? Because it doesn't seem like it."  
"..."  
"Do you want to talk about it?"  
"...No."  
"Alright then. Well if you ever do want to talk, I'm here. I know I'm just a teacher. But if you want to get better I can help."  
"..."  
You bite your lip to keep from crying. You don't deserve her care.   
"Being like this isn't fun. I would know. I was the same way."  
She pushes up the sleeve on her sweater.  
"They're mostly faded now, but you can still sort of see the worst ones. Its been quite a while, but I still remember the feeling associated with them."  
All along her forearm are faded hints of scars. They're mostly unnoticeable but if you look hard enough you can still see them.  
"...so it does get better?"  
"With help it does. It was a long recovery process, but yes it does get better. I only got help after the time I almost killed myself. Luckily someone saw the signs and saved me. My best friend at the time, ..now my girlfriend, but she took me to the emergency room just in time. They were able to save me. I started to see a psychiatrist and started taking meds and everything just got better. Everyone was supportive of my recovery. Of course it was a little weird talking to people about it, but it does get better. I promise."  
You don't know what to say. You had no idea. She always seems so happy. You chew on your lip and look down.  
Maybe you do need some help. This is lame.   
"...thanks. I mean for telling me your story."  
"Its the least I can do, and if I help then that's good too."  
"... I'll think about it."  
"Feel free to e-mail me or come see me if you want to talk. I'm no counselor, but it helps to talk to someone who knows what its like."  
"Right. Well, see you later."  
"Have a good weekend, Dave. I'll see you Monday."

You get up and leave in a daze. You don't know what to feel. Part of you just wants to go home and kill yourself, but part of you kind of wants to tell Bro. You don't know what to do. You just walk home like usual and continue to think about your life. You don't even bother with your ipod like usual.

When you get home you pause outside the door. You're not sure if Bro is home. You're never really sure about anything to do with that guy. You make sure your sleeves are rolled down, take a breath, and unlock the door and go in. Silence. You just go to your room and decide to just chill. You plop your backpack down on your bed and get on your computer.

All three of your friends are online. You click on Rose's handle.

-TurntechGodhead(TG) has begun pestering TentacleTherapist(TT)-  
TG: hey  
TT: Hello, Dave.  
TT: You're on a bit later than usual. Everything okay?  
TG: yeah  
TG: just had to talk to one of my teachers before coming home  
TT: Alright then.  
TG: hey um  
TG: so  
TG: with this whole depression thing  
TT: What is it, Dave?  
TG: well  
TG: i just  
TG: what i mean to say is  
TG: that um  
TG: ...  
TT: Well?  
TG: i cut myself  
TG: and not just another piece of cake  
TG: i slice up my wrists  
TG: like some little emo faggot  
TG: so yeah  
TG: just thought i should tell you  
TT: Oh, Dave.  
TG: so yeah  
TT: I think you should tell someone. Someone who can help.  
TG: well one of my teachers knows now  
TT: Oh? That's good.  
TG: i didnt really tell her though  
TG: i slipped up and she saw  
TG: she talked to me after school though  
TG: she used to cut too  
TG: and she almost killed herself once  
TG: she encouraged me to get help  
TT: That's a good start.  
TT: At least someone knows now.  
TG: yeah  
TG: i think i might tell bro  
TG: if i see him today  
TT: I think that would be a good thing to do.  
TG: so yeah  
TT: Is that all you want to talk about?  
TG: yeah  
TG: hey i think bros home  
TG: bye  
TT: Goodbye, Dave.  
TT: Good luck.  
-TurntechGodhead(TG) has ceased pestering TentacleTherapist(TT)-

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry


End file.
